


Personal Problems

by Kaiyou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College, Confusion, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, Post-Canon, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 02:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10066550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaiyou/pseuds/Kaiyou
Summary: Schoolwork is wearing Kenma out, and his boyfriends are suddenly acting like aliens. What's a man to do?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Escanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escanor/gifts).



> OK SO this is my HQ RarePair fic for [Escanor](Escanormusic.tumblr.com)! It's the flatmates bickering prompt, with bokuakakuroken.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

There came a certain point in every person’s life where they found their best friend vastly annoying. For Kenma, today was that day. Granted, it was not the only day he’d felt like this. In some ways, life had been so much easier back when Kuroo was still tentative about his place in Kenma’s life, trying gingerly feel out exactly what their relationship status was. Then, of course, Kenma had to go and ruin it all by admitting he was possibly in love with the guy.

Maybe. Potentially. Looking less likely by the minute.

Currently, Kenma was trying to actually study. Not put schoolwork off, not skim the readings like he normally did and then turn to gaming, not just crib off of an online site - but actually, seriously, read a text.

It was not going well.

It was not going well in part because his brain was fried from all the work he’d been putting into the group project in his applications class.

It was also not going well in part because he was having a hard time focusing on the concepts in the paper. For some reasons, the authors seemed to want to present their ideas in the most esoteric way possible. Most of the time, this would’ve driven him to give up on the text - but the ideas were actually interesting. He hadn’t studied all that much about artificial intelligence, but the propositions that the article authors were making actually made him rethink the little he did know. Realistically, AI wasn’t something required for game design, but there was always the possibility that things might develop in the future. The idea of having a game boss that could actually learn - would respond to the player in a way that would make each fight match a certain level of their skill, with weaknesses that shifted instead of remaining static - he liked that idea.

At the moment, however, his biggest boss battle appeared to be in the form of an overly-tall man who was being incredibly persistent in making crackly noises with paper and plastic.

Finally Kenma had had enough. “Kuro,” he growled, “this is the study. It’s the place we’ve set apart for, you know, studying. It is not the place for you to be doing - what are you doing, anyways?”

“Wrapping Christmas presents,” Kuroo said, glancing over at him with a raised eyebrow.

A vein started pulsing in Kenma’s forehead as he considered how to proceed. It was a bullshit answer. Christmas was still two months away. Birthday presents would’ve been more believable, even if the actual date of their next birthday wasn’t for another couple of weeks.

“Can it wait?” Kenma asked. “I’d really like to get this reading done.”

“Is it for an assignment?”

Kenma ground his teeth. It was, in a way - technically he could use it on the report he was turning in at the end of the semester - but in reality it was an offshoot of the reading that was assigned for the next day’s class. The reading that he’d skimmed, summarized, and promptly forgotten about, all except for this one little article that was footnoted. “Yes,” he finally said, looking back down at the paper.

“Oh? What assignment?”

This was pushing past annoying, and Kenma was further irritated because he had no clue why his boyfriend was acting like this. There was an edge to Kuroo’s voice that didn’t make sense. Still, he figured it was something stupid that wouldn’t be helped if he withheld things, so he said, “Final paper. I want to get a headstart on it.”

Not that he really needed to justify it to Kuroo - hell, normally Kuroo would be happy to see him actually studying, for once. Evidently, it was not a normal day.

“Isn’t that like two months away?”

“Isn’t Christmas like three?” Kenma snapped, frowning at the way Kuroo’s face set into a scowl.

“It’s never to early to get your presents wrapped,” Kuroo said.

That was bullshit, and they both knew it was bullshit, but there really wasn’t a good way to call him on it without turning this into something more than two people snapping at each other.

Sighing, Kenma said, “Fine. Can you at least try to be a little quieter?”

“I can try,” Kuroo muttered, looking back down at the box in his hand.

“Thank you.”

Kenma turned back to the article. He wished Kuroo would leave and go hang out with Bokuto. That was why they had the study anyway - so the other three people could hang out in the living room and game or listen to music or do whatever else they wanted to do while the people who had to get their work done got it done.

The paper-rattling started up again.

Huffing, Kenma thought about picking up and moving into another room. Bokuto was out there, though, and Kenma didn’t really want to get distracted by Bo’s energy. It was a wonder he wasn’t breaking the door down now - maybe he was coming down with Akaashi’s flu. That would suck. Bad enough that Akaashi was sick.

Akaashi wasn’t the best person in the world to be around when sick; he turned even snarkier than usual and sometimes even threw things in order to get people to leave him alone. Bokuto was worse, whiny and sulky by turns unless he was given copious amounts of attention and care.

Granted, the sight of a miserable Bokuto was enough to melt any of their hearts. Sometimes Kenma wondered if it was possible for anyone to not love Bokuto. It was, he knew it was from the way his teammates had treated him sometimes in the past, but Kenma was halfway convinced they probably had some sort of bubble of insanity that made them completely oblivious to how incredible Bokuto was.

Incredible, but also sometimes exhausting.

Not as exhausting as Kuroo was being right now, though.

“What the hell, Kuroo. Can’t you do that somewhere else?”

“What, it’s so bad for me to want to spend time with my boyfriend?

“You have two other boyfriends right outside this room, one of whom is probably bored out of his freaking mind without you around. Or getting into trouble. It’s far too quiet out there.”

“He’s not a child, Kenma!”

Kenma stared at him, completely confused by this point. “What is wrong with you today?”

Throwing down the roll of wrapping paper, Kuroo glared at him. “What do you think?”

Possibly that someone had come and taken over his boyfriend and replaced him with aliens? Kenma wracked his brain, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. “I think you’re just bound and determined to be mad at me today, and I have no idea why.”

Kuroo narrowed his eyes, pushing to his feet. “Fine,” he said, stalking out of the room.

Somehow, Kenma was pretty sure that things were far from fine.

In the back of his mind, there was a voice telling him that in situations like this it was normally best to go after your significant other and actually determine what the issues were. Kuroo was not, on the whole, prone to acting in a dramatic fashion. Whatever had upset him was at least somewhat serious.

That didn’t mean Kenma felt at all equipped to deal with it, however.

Frowning, he turned back to the article, filing the problem away in the back of his brain until he had more information to apply toward a solution. He was able to concentrate on the article a little better, but for some reason it wasn’t quite as appealing as it had been when he first started reading.

So troublesome.

Sighing he stood, moving over to stare down at the pile of half-wrapped presents. He recognized some of the things they’d gotten in Kagurazaka one afternoon when they’d been wandering. He was particularly fond of a pair of owl puppets they’d found. Bokuto would love them, he knew. Akaashi as well, though he might try to hide it.

Maybe he should go check on Akaashi. It was almost dinnertime, after all, and if Kuroo was upset someone probably had to be the responsible one.

Walking out of the study and into the kitchen he glanced into the living room. Bokuto and Kuroo were on the couch, Bokuto hunched over and Kuroo gently patting his back and whispering into his ear. That made Kenma pause. Had something happened?

If something major had happened, they probably would’ve actually told him, right?

The glare Kuroo shot him made him move on, steps slowing as he tried to figure out what was going on. Something was going on. Something that had Bokuto upset and Kuroo mad at him, two things that rarely if ever happened - well, not Bokuto being upset, but.

Frowning, Kenma absentmindedly pulled a can of soup out of the kitchen and started to prepare it, getting down a tray and arranging a plate with crackers. Orange juice too. A carafe of hot water for tea. Akaashi probably didn’t need all of that, but it didn’t hurt to be prepared.

While he was waiting for the soup to finish heating up his phone trilled, some annoying k-pop song. Frowning, Kenma checked the message. One of the girls in his project group must’ve gotten ahold of his phone and changed the ringtone again. He really didn’t understand girls. At least these two were able to pull their weight on the design project they were working on. Their user interface guy was decent, and the other programer was unlikable and should probably live in a cave but had more than the requisite skill to help them succeed. A few more late nights and the demo would be done.

Kenma felt a quiet sense of pride at that. He was looking forward to sharing the game with his boyfriends. It wasn’t often that he got to actually show off one of his creations; lines of code just weren’t all that interesting, even if Kuroo understood the math. There were times when Kenma was pretty sure that Bokuto would be impressed by anything. Akaashi was harder to impress. Kenma knew he was proud of him, but that wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the look in Akaashi’s eyes when Kenma actually shocked him.

The girls in his group might be annoying, but Kenma knew Akaashi would love the graphics they created. Bo would love the challenges that required perfect timing and reflexes, and Kuroo would be intrigued by the brain puzzles. They’d even talked about trying to put the game up on one of the app stores, developing more than just the few levels required for the class and seeing if anyone would actually buy it. It was an exciting prospect.

Now it seemed like there was some difficulty in rendering some of the environment changes that happened when one of the character’s magic effects wore off. Kenma monitored the conversation happening in their shared chatroom, asking a few questions to help try and guide people toward the right answer. It probably wasn’t related to the things he was working on directly but he was also the group’s leader so he felt a certain responsibility.

“Sharing details about your date?” Kuroo asked.

Distracted, Kenma just huffed in amusement as he typed out a response to one of the suggestions their interface expert had made. It reminded him of one of the issues he’d solved for another project. “Just working on a project for school.”

“School. Right.”

The tone pulled Kenma away from the chatroom and he stared at Kuroo, trying to decipher the meaning behind the questions as he watched his boyfriend stalk across the kitchen and grab a couple of glasses from a shelf. Kenma didn’t like how he was acting. It was all jerky and harsh, tense lips furrowed brow, fingers tight around a glass as he filled it with water.

“Is Bokuto ok?” Kenma tried.

“Do you care?”

The words shocked Kenma to the core. He opened his mouth to make a response, not sure what words to use. It felt like anything he said just pissed Kuroo off even more. When the microwave beeped he turned, hands shaking as he pulled out the bowl of soup, trying to ignore the sounds of Kuroo stomp out of the kitchen.

Of course he cared. Kuroo knew he cared. Kuroo knew how much he loved Bo, was sometimes even jealous of the smiles that Bo was able to pull from Kenma’s lips. So why would Kuroo even ask that?

The problem had suddenly blossomed from Kuroo being in a sulky mood into something much bigger, something that made Kenma start examining everything he’d done in the last few days. Had he done something to upset Bokuto? It was, on one level, a quite plausible explanation for the way Kuroo was acting. Kuroo was very protective of his friends, after all - normally Kenma before all others, but that dynamic had shifted a bit when all four of them had gotten together. If Kuroo thought he’d actually done something to hurt Bokuto -

But the problem was, Kenma hadn’t done anything. Would never do something to hurt Bokuto, not on purpose at least. Bokuto was just too good.

Picking up the tray, Kenma wandered down the hall towards their bedrooms, thinking about the whole date question. He hadn’t gone on a date in weeks because of school. He was supposed to go with Akaashi to some ice dancing event, but that didn’t seem likely unless the sickness went away soon. It felt like he’d barely had time to squeeze in a movie lately, between school and dealing with the random responsibilities that came from leading his group. He missed his weekends the most, snuggling up with Bokuto in the morning to eat dry fruit loops and watch cartoons, going to watch Akaashi’s practice before picking him up in time for lunch, and then just lying around with Kuroo in the early afternoon before they all ate together. It felt like he hadn’t been able to do half of those lately, for one reason or another.

Sharing details about his date, indeed.

Grumbling to himself Kenma nudged the bedroom door open, peering inside to see Akaashi curled up on the bed reading a magazine.

“Brought you dinner,” Kenma said, shuffling inside and shutting the door behind him with the back of his foot.

“I’m not hungry, Kozume-san,” Akaashi said, flipping the pages of his magazine.

“You will be. How’s the tea?”

“Cold.”

Huffing softly Kenma set the tray down on the dresser and went over to the bedside table with the carafe of fresh water, examining the cup. It wasn’t cold, it was empty. He pulled out a tea bag and filled the mug with hot water, making sure the honey was within Akaashi’s reach. “There, better?”

When he looked up, Akaashi was silently watching him, face unreadable. “Thank you,” Akaashi finally said.

Kenma nodded, leaving the carafe on the bedside table. “I have some orange juice too,” he said, walking back to the tray.

Akaashi just grunted.

Curling his fingers around the glass Kenma decided to take it for himself. He tried to ignore the way Akaashi was acting. Akaashi was sick. Akaashi was always grumpy when sick. Most of the time he didn’t like anyone in his presence at all. At least he hadn’t yelled at Kenma to get out.

Then again, he wasn’t the one Akaashi normally yelled at.

Trying again, Kenma turned around. “Are you feeling any better?” he asked, bringing the glass up to his chest like a makeshift shield.

“A bit.”

“I was just thinking, it’s only Thursday. If you feel better by Saturday maybe we can still make it to the Ice Dancing show?”

Akaashi was silent again, studying his face. “Are you sure that won’t interfere with your plans?” he asked.

Raising an eyebrow, Kenma tried to figure out what he meant. “That’s been our plan for a few weeks, right? Since - the tickets - I mean if you’d rather go with Kuroo -”

It was more normal for Kuroo and Akaashi to go together to things like this, artsy things, dancer showcases. Kenma had bought the tickets with the hope that at least once they could bond over this. He knew about as much about dancing as Akaashi did about games, but he was willing to try.

They were Akaashi’s tickets, though. He could do with them what he wanted.

Kenma looked down into the glass of orange juice, trying to control his breathing. His heart sounded loudly in his ears. He didn’t understand what was going on with his boyfriends today. It was weird, and he was sure there were cues he just wasn’t picking up. He tried to tell himself it was nothing but it didn’t feel like nothing. It felt scary.

Finally, Akaashi said, “I wouldn’t. I would rather go with you.”

“Oh,” Kenma said, the sound of his heartbeat starting to recede. “Well, good. Ah, do you mind if I stay here for a bit? I can bring your soup over to you if you get hungry, or go heat it up later, or just -”

“It’s fine,” Akaashi said. “Just don’t get sick.”

Nodding, Kenma moved to the armchair in the corner of the room and curled up in it. It smelled like Akaashi. There were little swatches of fabric in a pile next to the chair, and a rack of sewing supplies next to it. The chair itself was a corduroy, a strange shade of blue. Somewhere between teal, ocean blue, or navy - Kenma was never all that good with color names. He ran a fingernail over the ridges of the fabric, watching dust rise up. They should probably clean soon.

Then again, no one cleaned Akaashi’s side of the room without his permission.

“How’s school going?” Akaashi asked. He’d picked up his mug of tea and was now using it to hide half his face, inhaling the scent of jasmine and ginger.

“Pretty good,” Kenma said, taking a sip of orange juice. “Tiring. It shouldn’t be this much effort.”

“You have been gone a lot, lately.” Akaashi was actively studying him again, but it felt less pointed than before. More neutral.

“It’s troublesome.”

“Making new friends?”

Kenma pondered that. The guy handling the user interface wasn’t bad to talk to. Reminded him a little bit of Shibayama. The two girls - well. He didn’t trust them, but he didn’t really concern himself. They laughed at odd things and asked strange questions while he was trying to do work, but they also got things done. The other programer was a basic gamer, not wanting to talk to anyone. He’d probably be happy if people just shoved food and design requests into a slot in a door and left him alone.

It was hard to think about there being someone more antisocial than himself, but Kenma had met him.

“I’m not sure if you’d say friends,” Kenma finally said. “It’s a new experience, though. Enjoyable.”

“Hmm,” Akaashi said, taking a few sips of tea. “And do you -”

The loud sound of K-pop split the air, and Kenma grimaced apologetically, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Sorry,” he said. “I’d turn it off, but -”

“No, no, you do what you need to do,” Akaashi said.

It was team again, of course. Kenma reminded himself to go in and change the tone later, that was really starting to get on his nerves. Girls had such strange senses of humor. He opened chat and scrolled through the messages, skimming useless ones before he got to the one that had tripped the notification. Frowning he put his orange juice between his knees and typed out a short reply. The other programer had discovered the bug, and proposed a solution. Of course, he’d also said something that had pissed off one of the girls - the shorter one, he thought - and they were bickering. Sighing, Kenma did what he could to get things calmed down and make sure things were back on track. People were tiresome.

It was worse than having to juggle a volleyball team, and that was saying something.

Finally, though, the programer ducked his head back down and got to work. Too many egos. Not enough time.

When he set his phone down on the edge of the chair, Akaashi said, “I never knew you liked K-pop.”

“I don’t,” Kenma said, making a face. “One of my classmates changed the ringtone as a joke.”

“They had access to your phone?”

Kenma paused, trying to place the meaning behind Akaashi’s tone of voice. “Only to some bits,” he said. “We were working on something, it was just easier to let them know how to unlock it in case we left it alone too long and it went dark - I kept meaning to change the passcode, but well. I will now. Don’t worry, all the personal stuff is in a vault.”

The critical look was back on Akaashi’s face again, but he also seemed a bit puzzled. “It’s not like you to let strangers access your phone.”

Kenma thought about it. It was, on the surface, true - but it wasn’t like there was a lot of things on his phone that were all that interesting. Just games, mainly. A few technology-related apps. Sure, he did have some personal photos of the four of them together, but like he’d said, he had an extra layer of security around those. “I do sometimes?” he said. “Hinata, Fukunaga - even Lev one time, when he needed to find directions to someplace. Fukunaga used to play pranks on me all the time, the little shit. Kept guessing the passcode.”

That made Akaashi laugh. The sound was low and rough, and it turned into a coughing fit that had Kenma sitting up in alarm.

“I’m fine,” Akaashi said. “Fine. At least it’s coming up. Got so tired of the dry cough.”

Making a sympathetic noise Kenma nodded.

“You never let Bokuto use your phone,” Akaashi said. “Or Kuroo.”

Well, ok, that was true. But there were reasons for that. Kenma felt blood rushing to his cheeks. The reason he didn’t let Kuroo on his phone was that he was sure his best friend would tease him endlessly about the fact that he actually played Neko Atsume - and about what he’d named all the cats. Kuroo had enough blackmail material already, he didn’t need to get his hands on that. Bokuto - well. That was more because Kenma had a whole page dedicated to owls, including a semi-working version of an owl game he was developing as a gift for the man, since he was always complaining that there was a game for cats and dogs but not ‘the best birds in the whole universe.’

It wasn’t working yet though, and the graphics were abominable.

Maybe one of the girls would be willing to draw him some owls. The taller one was a bit calmer.

“You never let anyone use your phone either,” Kenma countered.

“Ah yes, but we’re not talking about me.”

Kenma frowned, giving Akaashi a sharp look. This was starting to feel like an interrogation. Taking another drink of orange juice, he said, “Is it really all that strange that I’d let someone use my phone for class?”

He felt prickly inside, like Akaashi was judging him for something that really wasn’t worth being judged for. Akaashi wasn’t like that. He was starting to wonder if all of his boyfriends had been replaced by aliens.

Maybe he should just get his things together and go study at a coffee shop or something, this was exhausting. He missed being here with them, though.

Even if all he did was sit in the corner and play his games while listening to them bicker.

Akaashi sighed. “I apologize,” he said. “It’s not.”

That made Kenma feel somewhat better, but he was still uncomfortable. Finishing off the juice he picked up his phone, suddenly reminded of the last time the girls had gotten their hands on it. They’d been sitting in the library, finishing up a group session. Bokuto and Kuroo had just texted to let him know they were on the way to pick him up.

The shorter girl had snatched it up as soon as he set it down, immediately going into the pictures. That was annoying. At the time, Kenma had been helping the user-interface guy with a problem, so he only halfway heard the questions the girls were asking him. It was all just stupid stuff, after all. If he didn’t know any better he would’ve sworn they were flirting, though why they’d flirt while showing each other pictures of Kenma’s boyfriends - well.

Kuroo and Bokuto were hot, and Akaashi - yeah.

Akaashi looked incredible even with a red nose and puffy eyes. That was just the fact of Kenma’s existence. Sometimes he was in awe of the fact that he’d landed not just one, but three incredibly attractive men. It wasn’t all about looks, but looks were not something he minded one bit. Even if he knew that underneath those sexy locks Kuroo was the biggest nerd this side of Mt. Fuji.

A soft hooting noise came from Akaashi’s bed, and Kenma smiled. Bokuto had set that ringtone on all their phones. At least the girls hadn’t changed that. He listened as Akaashi tapped away on the phone, deciding to fix his settings while the other texted their boyfriend. It wasn’t too hard to find where they’d imported the kpop ringtone for the chat notification. They’d added some odd keywords too, he noticed. Weird.

“Everything ok with Bokuto?” Kenma asked, checking the text in their groupchat to make sure nothing had come up. “He seemed down this afternoon, but Kuroo was comforting him and I didn’t want to interfere.”

“Hmm,” Akaashi said, something about the noise making Kenma look up. “Ah - huh. It probably wouldn’t hurt if you talked to him at some point.”

Kenma nodded, translating that the problem, whatever it was, wasn’t urgent. “I can do that. Are you hungry yet?”

“Yes, please.”

Nodding, Kenma stood and went over, holding the outside of the bowl. It wasn’t too cool yet. “If this isn’t warm enough I can heat it up for you again,” he said, taking the tray over and setting it down over Akaashi’s lap.

“Thank you,” Akaashi said, reaching for him then stopping, probably mindful of the germs. “Ah, Kenma...”

“Yes?”

Akaashi looked up at him, lips pursed, looking at him with that unreadable gaze again. Then he opened his mouth to speak. “You know that if you are, for some reason, unhappy with us, all you have to do is say something, right?”

Blinking, Kenma tried to process that statement. Unhappy? Why would he be - well, ok so today people were acting weird, but there were probably reasonable explanations for that. Kuroo would get over whatever had him in a snit. Stress would die down, he’d go out and comfort Bokuto with whatever was bothering him, Akaashi would get better and they’d get to go watch ice dancers - “I’m not unhappy,” he said. “Do I seem unhappy?”

The gaze of Akaashi’s grey-green eyes was searching, then he shrugged. “You seem, hmm. Distant, lately. But perhaps that is just because of school.”

Kenma nodded, looking to the side. “Sorry,” he said. “It - it takes a lot of my attention.”

He wanted to tell Akaashi about the project. He’d been keeping it a secret for a while though, not intentionally at first, but now - he wanted it to be a surprise. Not so much of a surprise that it made his boyfriends doubt his happiness, though. “I’m very happy with you, and Bo, and Kuroo.”

“Are you sure? There isn’t anything, ah, missing?”

Now that question was just odd. Huffing, Kenma said, “I have three boyfriends. Not one, not two, but three, and you’re all very different from one another. What in the world could I be missing?”

Grey-green eyes opened wider, then Akaashi chuckled. “Well, we are all taller than you,” he said, the hint of a smile creasing his lips.

“Not when you’re on your knees.”

“Point.”

There was a heat in Akaashi’s eyes that had nothing to do with fever. It was familiar. It wasn’t anything they could do anything about right now, but - “I hope you get better soon,” Kenma murmured. “Would hate to miss the ice dancing.”

“Indeed,” Akaashi said, then gave him a fond look. “You should go talk to Bokuto and Kuroo.”

Kenma made a face at that. If Kuroo was still acting weird - but well, it was still Kuro, even if he was weird. Maybe it was because of the thing with Bo, and everything would settle down after they talked.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Kenma said.

“I’ll text. Though I hope my notification hasn’t been set to some BTS song.”

Chuckling, Kenma said, “I think you’re safe.”

His heart felt a little lighter as he turned and walked out the bedroom toward the living room. Whatever was going on, it seemed like things between Akaashi and him were fine. That gave him the bit of confidence that was needed when he walked in and saw Bokuto and Kuroo sitting together on the couch.

“Hey,” Kenma said.

“Kenma!” Bokuto said, eyes lighting up. His smile was quickly replaced by a worried look and a frown, though. Something was wrong.

The previous worry that Bokuto was upset because of him resurfaced, and Kenma chewed his bottom lip, gingerly picking his way across the floor to perch on the edge of one of the chairs near the couch. “Is something wrong?”

Kuroo’s laugh was a harsh, unnatural thing. “You might say that.”

“Wha -”

“We heard you, Kenma,” he said.

Ok, that sounded a tad dramatic. Kenma hated it when Kuroo got like this, all gripey and emotional and more than a little self-righteous. Earlier it had made him unsettled. Now it was starting to grate on his nerves.

Crossing his arms in front of himself Kenma said, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific, Kuro.”

“Kenmaaaaa,” Bokuto said, looking from Kuroo to Kenma and back again. “Kuroo, maybe we should -”

“No. This needs to be said. It’s not fair that he -”

“That I what, exactly?”

He was trying to be patient, but this whole thing was pissing him off. If it wasn’t for the fact that Bokuto looked so worried, he might’ve been tempted to just go lock himself in a room until Kuroo stopped acting like an asshole.

Pointing a finger at him, Kuroo said, “That you’re trying to hook up with other people! Behind our backs! Without telling us!”

Kenma blinked.

“Ah, what?” he asked, trying to wrap his mind around the concept.

“I’m sorry we aren’t enough, Kenma,” Bokuto said, noticeably drooping. “I - well after the last few weeks, I thought something might be up -”

Wait, did they seriously think that he -

“And of course I thought he was wrong, but then we heard you,” said Kuroo.

They did. Incredible. Impossible. Unthinkable.

Kenma just blinked, brow furrowed as he tried to recall any event in recent history that might’ve given his boyfriends the idea that he wanted to sleep with other people. “Heard me?” he asked.

“With the girls,” Kuroo continued.

He only knew of two girls he’d actually been in contact with recently -

“Are we really just your friends, Kenma?” Bokuto asked, voice quiet. “You said we were your friends. They asked, and you said -”

“Well, you are my friends,” Kenma said, vaguely remembering that one of the girls had asked him who the boys in his photos were. He hadn’t really been paying attention at the time, definitely hadn’t had time to correct them by explaining the whole polyamorous relationship thing, so friends seemed the safest option.

“Well yeah,” Kuroo said. “And if you have friends and not boyfriends, then it’s an awful lot easier to be invited to a mixer, isn’t it? And we all know what those two girls get up to at their mixers.”

Kenma made a face. He was very confused. Well he had no clue what they got up to, but Kuroo was much more aware of what went on in social circles than he was. “Why would you think -”

“Because they asked! And you said yes!” Kuroo hissed, looking more upset than Kenma had seen him in a long time.

“I what?”

Kuroo just huffed and looked away. Bokuto frowned at him and then turned to Kuroo, patting his back and making comforting noises.

This was insane.

Sighing, Kenma pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up the chat. This was probably just a big misunderstanding, but just to be sure he sent a private message off to the taller of the two girls.

[Kenma]: My friends think they overheard you asking me to a mixer the other day. Do you have any idea what that’s about?

He suddenly felt guilty for using the word friends. His earlier reasoning stood though - he just wanted an answer, not to have to explain his nontraditional lifestyle to people who were relatively disposable strangers.

[Graphics]: Yeah! Saturday night! Why, do they want to come? Is it the same guys on your phone? They’re cute! I’m sure we can make room for them!!! The girls are really sweet, so I’m sure they’d have a blast!!!! Remember you’re sitting next to me and Umiko tho, you promised! Don't worry, we’ll keep you safe (๑╹ω╹๑ )

“How did this happen?” Kenma asked, staring down at his phone, aghast.

“I’m sorry Kenma, but we needed to know. Why couldn’t you just tell us?!” Bokuto whined, a pitiful look on his face.

“Yeah, instead of going around behind our backs,” Kuroo huffed, then sighed. “I mean, if you wanted to try things out - I know college is about experimentation, and that one girl, the one with the long hair, she’s really pretty and seems to be into you - but - Fuck!”

“Are you insane?” Kenma asked, basically at the end of his rope.

“Excuse me?!”

“Kuro. You’ve known me since I was seven years old. You have access to my entire porn collection, which for the most part involves clips of the four of us together, in any way we can think of. Have I ever, once, even slightly indicated that I was interested in anything other than cocks?”

“Kenma!” Bokuto said, outright shocked.

“You know exactly what I think about girls. Hell, you laughed at me when I got up and left the room when the guys watched a porno back at that one party in high school!”

“I didn’t laugh,” Kuroo said, frowning. “As I recall, I gave you a very nice blowjob.”

“You did laugh, and then you pushed me up against the house in Lev’s backyard and blew me, all the while telling me to be quiet because I didn’t want Lev to figure out what we were doing.”

“Did he find out?” Bokuto asked.

“No!” Kuroo said.

“But Fukunaga did, and he wouldn’t stop teasing me about it for weeks. Do you know how weird it is to have Fukunaga moan in your ear when you’re trying to take a piss?”

Both of them were staring at him now.

Bokuto spoke first. “Isn’t he the quiet one?”

Kenma huffed. “The quiet ones are always the worst.”

“Says the man who regularly made Tora miss receives during practice because you were whispering dirty jokes.”

Ok, that was fair. And it had been fun. But it was a distraction from the issue at hand.

“I don’t like girls, Kuro,” Kenma said, sighing. “I must’ve been distracted when they asked me - I don't even remember them actually asking, to be honest, but both you and Aki-chan remember it happening so I guess it did. I’ll have to figure out some way to let them know I’m not coming, but - ugh. Why didn’t you just come out and ask me?”

The two of them exchanged glances, and then Bokuto sighed. “I figured you were just waiting for the right time to tell us,” he said, voice small. “You’ve been so distant lately, I just thought -”

“Bo,” Kenma said, heart aching at the pain he saw on Bokuto’s face. “Koutarou, you know - I -”

They knew how he felt about them, right?

His hands were shaking again, chest hurting. These three - they were the center of his whole world. He knew he wasn’t perfect, knew that he was lucky they were willing to put up with him, but for Bokuto to doubt that he -

“I’m sorry,” Kenma whispered.

He knew he’d been busy at school lately. Knew he’d probably taken them for granted, that he’d been too tired for sex most of the time, that he’d had to turn down Bokuto’s requests for cuddle time. That still left Kuroo, but he could see that his best friend was still terribly upset and had probably felt lonely too.

“You really - you really don't want someone else?” Bokuto asked, voice quivering.

“No,” Kenma said, moving to stand in front of them, reaching a hand down to rub Bokuto’s shoulder. Looking at Kuroo he said, “All I’ve ever wanted it right here in this apartment. I promise.”

Kuroo was frowning still, but it was a regretful frown, and he reached up and took Kenma’s hand, squeezing his fingers. Then he tugged Kenma down, making him squirm a bit to get comfortable and figure out how to access both of them in an awkward embrace. He ended up half on Kuroo’s lap with his legs over one of Bokuto’s legs, arms holding Bokuto close while Kuroo’s hands wrapped around his stomach.

“Kenma,” Bokuto murmured, nuzzling his neck.

Kuroo rested his head against his shoulder, blowing into his ear.

This was home. The only thing missing was Akaashi, and he was there in spirit. This - this was what he missed, though, being wrapped up in these incredible men, feeling incredibly loved.

Even if they were incredibly stupid sometimes.

“You guys seriously thought - what - that I was going to go to some mixer and seduce all these girls?” Kenma asked, nuzzling Bokuto’s hair.

“Well of course,” Bokuto said, pulling back suddenly and looking Kenma dead in the face. “You’re one of the sexiest people in Japan! In the whole wide world, even!”

Kenma made a face. That was hyperbole. “No, I’m not. I’m just - me. A guy who’s lucky enough to be dating - well - you.”

Behind him, Kuroo laughed, the softer version of the loud donkey laugh that usually came out of his mouth. “I swear, Kenma, sometimes it’s utterly adorable how completely unaware you are of your own attractiveness.”

Huffing, Kenma watched as Bokuto and Kuroo exchanged glances. He didn’t trust those looks.

“You really want us, Kenma?” Bokuto asked, grinning widely.

“Yes?” Kenma replied, squirming as Kuroo’s hands slid up his torso, pulling him back tightly.

“Hmm,” Kuroo said, nuzzling his neck and kissing it lightly. “What if Bo and I showed you exactly how sexy you are, hmm?”

Bokuto’s hand was sliding up the inside of Kenma’s thigh, and there was an intensity in his eyes that made Kenma’s heart race. Leaning forward, Bokuto rested their foreheads together and said, “After all, we should probably show you how sorry we are about spying on you.”

Not that Kenma cared. Not that they needed an excuse for - hells - what were they planning -

“Kuro,” he whined, shifting as Kuroo’s hand slid down to his free thigh, tugging it outward.

“Yes, Kenma?” Kuroo purred, sucking on his neck in a place that really did not need to be marked.

Aw, fuck it.

“Bedroom?” Kenma asked.

Kuroo laughed, biting and then kissing over to his shoulder.

“Whatever our Kenma wants,” Bokuto said, kissing him softly. “Our wonderful, wonderful, precious Kenma.”

And he was theirs, totally.

He had a feeling that he was going to have a long night trying to prove it - but he found he really didn’t mind at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk/chat/throw things at me on tumbler - [kaiyouchan.tumblr.com](http://kaiyouchan.tumblr.com)


End file.
